


Control

by doreah



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2862317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doreah/pseuds/doreah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let's make a deal, then? You stop telling me how I feel about House and I'll stop telling you how you feel about House.” A conversation after 4x06.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007.

Chase sank down heavily into the sofa cushions and punctuated the action with a dramatic sigh. The movement caused the young blonde at the other end to dip slightly towards him. Cameron glanced over quickly but made sure not to linger too long. After all, she was deeply absorbed in her textbook; the same immunology textbook she had practically memorized from cover to cover. If the broken spine or the water-damaged pages weren't an indication, perhaps the excessive highlighting would be, or perhaps the fact she didn't appear to actually be reading it at all. If she had been, the pages wouldn't be flipping quite as often.

She didn't say anything to his actions, nor his obvious attempt to bait her into conversation. She flipped over the page coming to a rather confusing diagram of the spleen in regards to treatment of idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura. He stared at her for a moment, knowing that she could feel his eyes on her. She shifted very slightly away from him. Giving up for the moment, he jabbed at the buttons on her remote, idly flicking through the channels until he came upon something he knew she would detest. Normally, that would be some sort of home decorating show or the rodeo. The only problem being that he would have to pretend to not hate the exact same thing.

After about 5 minutes of watching some local rodeo from San Antonio, she finally looked up from her book, gazing briefly at the screen and then pinning him with a pointed glare. It was his turn to ignore her.

“Change the channel.”

She still liked demanding things. He still liked acting like he hadn't heard her.

“Look, I didn't ask you to come over tonight so change the channel on my TV.”

He stared vacantly at the action onscreen.

“I know you can hear me. And unless you've suddenly and magically presented with vestibular schwannoma, change the channel.”

He made no attempt to do as she asked. She snapped the textbook closed and grabbed for the remote herself. It was fairly easy to keep it from her reach. She wouldn't try to climb over him. She never really liked playing games when she wasn't the one making the rules. She especially hated games when Chase made the rules. Instead, after her half-hearted attempt to grab hold of the control, she sat back and sulked.

He glanced at her with a smirk. “So, you're talking to me again?”

“I talked to you all day.”

He chuckled very slightly. “No, you talked to me up until I told you to get over House already.”

“I talked to you after that.”

“Only if you consider grunting a noncommittal response to my asking if I could come over tonight.”

“I'm talking to you now.”

Chase pressed his lips together and tried to force out a tight smile. He wasn't buying her argument. “It doesn't count if I had to trick you into it,” he said as he handed her the remote. She snatched it quickly like a cornered animal and flicked the television off. She placed it on the armrest away from him, as if her body were a barrier at all to him. Unlike her, he enjoyed playing games that she controlled. Mostly because he knew, deep down, she had no control over anything at all. As long as he didn't burst her illusion of control, she was happy.

The occasional times when he would throw change at her, when he made her feel powerless, she would snap back and retreat quickly. It had happened on numerous occasions, most notably when he “broke the rules” of their friends-with-benefits arrangement.

He knew that's why she had wanted a relationship with House. If she was fixing, nursing and nurturing, she was in control. He knew that's why she had started everything with him. She called the shots.

That's why she had put in her resignation (twice) instead of waiting to be fired. That's why she always chose to call social services or talk to the parents or rat on House to Cuddy. It was an exercise in power. Regardless of the fact House still held every last speck of it, the illusion was firmly intact if she made the call.

He knew it. House knew it. Wilson knew it. Cuddy even knew it. Pretty much everyone except Cameron knew it.

Why the hell she had chosen to join House's team never quite made sense to him. He was pretty sure --secretly and very deep down somewhere-- she craved unpredictability. And she certainly had a very prominent submissive streak when it came to sex. She put all her chips in then. No one who needs control that much comes that hard. At least no one Chase had ever known.

Chase considered it his calling to constantly remind her of her lack of control. She hated that, and hated him when he did that. He could see that much at least. She couldn't stand when he would suggest that her motives were anything other than her own conscious mind. Love-Of-House motivations fell into the “uncontrollable” category. Much like the love of anything. He was fairly certain she would never say those three words to him. At least not for another five years or so, if it ever even got that far. Yet, it wasn't gamophobia.

It was a more simple fear, more transitory in nature, not as deeply ingrained as she believed it to be. And he could live with that. And for that reason, he kept poking and prodding and pushing her. She'd have to face it sooner or later.

Without a second thought, he reached over her body and grabbed the remote back. Her stunned expression was enough to know that he had won.

“Hey!” She had no further objection.

“Hey,” he said back as if it was merely a greeting.

“You can't do that,” she pouted, looking helpless, and a little bit amused. But only a very tiny bit.

“But I just did,” he countered, flicking through the channels again hoping to stumble across something more irritating than a local rodeo. Maybe _Flip This House_ was on.

Without missing a beat, she responded. “Why were you such a jerk at work today?”

“Hmm?” He had found _SuperNanny_. That was pretty annoying with the screaming, neglected or maladjusted children and the ignorant or lazy parents. It always got a rise out of the morally-outraged side of Cameron. She seemed to be ignoring the television however, choosing instead to be morally outraged at him.

“Why were you such a jerk today?” She merely repeated the question, offering nothing else.

“Was I?” he asked, realizing that distracting her with reality TV wasn't going to work this time.

“Yes.”

“Oh, I didn't realize.”

“Yes you did! Why?”

“Why did I realize?”

“Stop it. Just answer me, please.”

He paused for a moment, seeming to be in deep thought. He finally smirked a little. “Because the make-up sex is better that way?” He accented the sentence with a wink.

“Rober--”

“The more you argue, the better it gets, so keep going.”

Finally, she let out a frustrated huff and glared at the television, not really watching it but not wanting to look at him and his suggestive facial expressions. He knew exactly how to work her over and she fell for it every time. Cameron crossed her arms across her chest, trying to signal to him that she didn't want to play whatever game he was getting at... regardless of the fact that their make-up sex was actually quite good.

“You made fun of me.”

He shrugged, and glanced at her. “I'm the one who should be mad. You made me late for surgery. I had to scrub a second time because of those five little droplets of water you flicked at me. I didn't make you late for anything. And you totally misunderstood my teasing about Foreman.”

Now her interest was piqued. She cocked her head to the side, the hint of a smile playing along her lips as if she already knew the answer to the question she was about to ask.

“What did you want from it?”

“I think it was pretty obvious by my body language. Open. Inviting. _Expectant_.” He smirked at her.

“Yeah, okay. I'm not going to kiss you right after you told me to let go of House. Which, by the way, was totally off-base and uncalled for.”

“But not completely unheard of. And, if I remember correctly, you had to think about that one for a while so I obviously hit on something.”

She sighed. “Go ask Foreman what you hit on if you care so much.”

He studied her for a moment. She was staring at the TV again but he tried anyway. “I'd rather you tell me.”

She shook her head and bit her bottom lip for a moment, still refusing to look at him. He pressed the power button on the remote and suddenly it was silent. She looked strangely identical to how she had earlier in the day when he originally made the comment. Thoughtful, but confused, almost as if she was thinking about how right he was, yet not sure exactly what he was right about. She did that a lot lately. It was a bit of a victory for him to see her crack, to confuse her and not have her immediately scurry away. Instead she'd just ponder. She usually never actually responded to him, but it was a small victory anyway.

“So you'll tell Foreman but not me?”

“You don't get it. You're still too angry to get it.”

“How do you know that if I don't even know what you're talking about?”

“Just... trust me.”

That was new. Her hiding her feelings wasn't, of course, even if though she was terrible at it. But the simple request of trust had been. That was what caught him off guard. And for once, it looked as if that reaction hadn't been her motivation.

“I'm not angry,” Chase finally said slowly, not entirely sure what he wasn't angry about this time. He suspected it had to do with House. Cameron hadn't been totally wrong but anger he felt towards House, if any, was so trivial he hardly saw how it mattered. It was so minuscule in the bigger scheme of his life right now. He had no problems with the man. He didn't really care that he lost his job, especially after seeing how that turned out. He had a great job. And he had her, which although still unbelievable was not unwanted.

“Okay.” She didn't sound like she believed him at all. “Let's make a deal, then? You stop telling me how I feel about House and I'll stop telling you how you feel about House.”

“Deal.” Deal or not, he was pretty sure he had just lost that argument. Again.

He stared at her with a smile forming.

She gazed back, squinting her eyes and cocking her head to the side, obviously trying to hold the grin back as she silently questioned him. “What?” she asked, breaking into a real smile.

“Nothing,” he murmured, a similar expression on his face for sure.

“Are you still open, inviting and expectant?” She ducked her head, looking particularly playful and coy. Cameron was never bashful but he could swear he saw a flush to her cheeks. As if she needed to even ask. He held up his hands like he had just washed them, and tried his best to recreate the look that had been on his face, head slightly tilted to the side. He waited for her to do what he had wanted earlier. She broke into a full grin, a bubble of laughter breaking free as she leaned over to kiss him – chastely -- as she would have done earlier that afternoon.

Life in general didn't afford very many do-overs. But with them, as they had learnt from rare disease to miracle cure to every Tuesday of the week, life in general didn't really apply to them.


End file.
